Give You What You Like
by derelicts
Summary: [Dark-ish.] It'll only last a night but it only leaves them wanting more. Dan x Natalie, rated M for a reason.


**disclaimer:** i don't own 39 clues. AND I SWEAR THEY'RE 18 IN THIS.

 **NOTE:** listen to 'Give You What You Like' by Avirl Lavigne' while reading this because holy _fuck,_ that fits this. and please note, this is _not for younger kids._ also, this is terribly unedited.

" **love? maybe one day"**

" **Merry Christmas," he whispers** , breath smelling like whiskey as it ghosts over her ear and she moves her face so she can see him, even though she knows it is him. It always been him. She could feel him at the other side of the room before he had even approach her. She knows, just a few mere minutes ago, he has been drinking under the watchful eye of his older sister, but she knows he'll sneak in more when Amy isn't looking. Though Natalie is bored and can find better entertainment on her phone, her attention is always snared by her prey. Despite being in the midst of a crowd of their few hundred relatives, he stands out rightfully so- with his fair hair, golden skin and piercing green eyes that sets her apart and sees her for more than who she is: a spoiled brat with attention issues.

Natalie hates this stupid Christmas family party and she is _so_ bored because nothing ever happens. It's always the same. She can predict the easy outcomes without even looking: Jonah is probably be drunk already, attempting to rap and dance on the table with horrible and gag-inducing results. Ian and Amy are probably trying to avoid conversation while eye-fucking each other from across the room. Nellie is drowning the madness that is the Cahill family with _My Chemical Romance_ and a bottle of red wine. Fiske is reining in the chaos by stopping random arguments from erupting into full-scale Cahill wall. Hamilton and the two Holt girls will be wrestling _again_ at the living room, with their parents betting on which will win. Sinead and the Starlings will be doing their math homeworks at the corner of the room. Uncle Alistair will be at the library, reading and putting a good mile between him and the carnage when the police comes to investigate the disturbance. Usually, she and Dan will be arguing somewhere along there but up till recent months, their arguments has slowed- due to that _one_ night.

Natalie's skin quivers at the memory of _that_ night. She doesn't even know how it starts, barely remembering the details, except from fragments and brief flashes of the events. She remembers it being a petty fight, one that results in them screaming and yelling, one that causes Amy to lose her shit and yell at them to shut up, one that causes Ian to start popping Advil, one that causes them to beat the shit out of each other with Dan breaking out fists and Natalie whipping out her handy dart gun, one that causes Nellie to come in and pry them apart, then put them under kitchen duty for punishment. She barely remembers how the snarky comments used to blame him for winding up with kitchen duty manages to turn into the sinful act of Dan _Sodding_ Cahill pushing her against the wall and slamming his lips onto hers, with her securing their permanent places in Hell when she pulled him closer and whispered for more.

She is haunted by the memories of their first night, cropping up in her brain and catching her unaware; how their hips keeps sliding together in symphony, the coolness of the hard kitchen floor, the vulnerable gasps torn from her throat as he placed kisses on her jawline, the air thickening with moisture and unbearable heat that results in her shedding her clothes, making her marvel at how loud she can be when given the chance and the train of thoughts that wonders: _where the fuck did he learn to do that…?_

After the sloppy, passionate deed, a week creeps by and they circle around each other like vultures watching their roadkill, living in the horror that one might tell, one might spread the vile details of what has happened between them, the dirty and scandalous gossip of how they _fucked on the kitchen floor when everybody was out._ When it becomes clear that nobody dares breach the social construct and nobody dares breathe a word out to the world of the adults, nobody dares unfold the horror and events if _they_ ever find out, Natalie finally relaxed. Maybe Dan _Sodding_ Cahill isn't so stupid after all.

Another week passes and she is still trapped in their house, their connection draws them together like moths to flames and she finds herself trapped in another sense. Trapped in a type of pattern of screaming and arguing, then sneaking off into his room or him knocking on her door at the dead of the night whenever one of them feels lonely or _bored._ As far as everybody knows, they hate each other- and Natalie truly does _hate_ him, hate him for reducing her into such _slutty_ actions, such horrible deeds, horrible...irresistible...sinful... _physical_ deeds.

But she couldn't _deny_ the passion underneath her skin, which sear an imprint hotter than any fire. It is a fire that burns too hot for her to contain, a fire too wild for water to disperse, a fire that threatens to destroy everything she ever knew, every courtesy she's been taught ( _cross your legs, Natalie, and be a good girl),_ every virtue that has been drilled in her head since she crawled out of her mother's womb, bleeding and fragile, every good and proper thought obliterating and shattering like her walls of defense when he touches her in places she never knew she could be touched.

She wonders if it will ever turn into something _more..._ but no, because it all just one forbidden _maybe._ She tries to convince herself it is purely physical. She gets her stress relieved and her skin looking less waxy than before and she gets her boredom fulfilled and somehow manages to find a better entertaining fix to her monochrome days that passes without any significance of ever occurring, the rose to the thorn in the monotony of routine, but she couldn't deny there is a part of her asking for something else. She is a teenaged girl after all.

"Merry Christmas," she drawls in unhappy fashion, sizing him up with a rake of amber eyes. Dan is dressed ultra-casually, as always, even at special occasions. V-neck that exposes a bit of tanned skin on the chest, baggy jeans, worn converses that looks as though they've seen better days. A small smirk lights up on his face, a smirk that incites a deep hatred and mesmerized her all the same, waking up the spark of excitement bubbling in her stomach.

"Did you miss me?"

And just like that, Natalie knows where this is heading. Her pulse suddenly fastens and her mouth salivates with anticipation. His arrogant-tinted eyes clashes with her icy gold's and even she knows, he's been waiting for this the whole night. They just have to slip out, unnoticed at the right moment so their affair remains unknown to everybody. "I don't," she spits out, "But you know _what_ I missed."

Her eyes flit to Ian, who has gone off to the bathroom, and then Amy, who is curled up with a book at the couch, wincing as Jonah tries karaoke again. Everybody is distracted. Good. Her hands fly up to his wrist, her delicate tendons wraps around his hand and pulls hard as she drags over towards the stairs. Dan does not protest, Thank _fucking God,_ because she doesn't know how long she can take this boredom and waiting, and follows obediently. They reach the top and in the dim darkness of the unlit hallway of the upstairs, they are enveloped in the secrecy of desertion.

"Eager to get started now, are we?" he chuckles, louder than the whispers they've been exchanging. Dan tugs her closer to him forcefully and she is shoved against his warm chest as his lips touch the lobe of her right ear, warm breath sending shudders as he kiss it lightly.

"Shut up,'" she hisses but oddly enough, she doesn't stop him. "What took you so long?"

He edges some distance between them and a pool of disappointment leaks in. _God,_ she hates feeling this needy, "Amy," he sighs. Natalie stiffens, annoyance swelling in her heaving chest as she hears his sister's name because it is _always_ his sister that somehow gets in the way of their skirmishes.

"Doesn't matter," she murmurs before pulling him into a vacant room of white walls and white plain sheets. "What matters is _now."_

The minute the door click shut and clatters locked, Natalie finds herself held tight by Dan against the door, her back rubbing on the knob slightly as she is caught under him. " _Is that what you think?"_ he asks her, mouth parted, breathing laboured as his hands are on her hips, admiring her lithe form, as he looms over her, easily towering over her. Randomly, she is brought back to the first day of last summer, the first time she seen him in the whole year, a year after the Vesper fiasco, and she is aghast by how _tall_ he has become, how he has grown into a 6'5 frame, making it harder to dominate in arguments. She hates, absolutely hates it, because it means he gets the upperhand on the whole 'I'm taller' argument.

"Yes," she utters aloud, looking up at the minty jade eyes, which is dilated to the point of lust, just like hers.

"Good." He says it so soft she has to strain her ears to hear it, but there is potency within that one word because the next thing that happens falls way out of her control. He throws her against the bed and it doesn't hurt because it is a soft landing, but it still crushes her as his weight suddenly suffocates her. He takes away her breath and empty her lungs by smothering her with one needy kiss, his tongue pushing in and her pushing back, fighting back, needing to dominate because there is no way she lets Dan _Sodding_ Cahill gets the best of her, not even in...whatever this is. She gasps as they finally break apart in wanton need of air. She sucks in as much as she can before they kiss again. This time Natalie hooks her legs around Dan, twist and force herself back into an uprught position so she gains leverage. He groans slightly as she grinds her lower part onto his, elicting a slurred raspy " _Jesus Christ"_ from Dan _Sodding_ Cahill as he loses control and Natalie snatches it, taking it under her greedy grasp and fully erects herself on top of him, savouring the win.

Her dark hair falls onto his face as their mouths attempt to devour each other, her hands roaming his body. She could taste the alcohol in the walls of his mouth and that makes the whole situation better, Natalie thinks as her fingers stretch out in her inebriated, passion-filled haze and slowly unbuttons his jeans. The languid motion, she knows, drives him crazy, drives him insane, drives him to say, "For fuck's sake, Natalie," Dan grits his teeth, seething, trying not to let the lust seize him like it seizes her, "Hurry up."

"Patience," Natalie says with a crooning smile, the same lazy smile she wears whenever she wins an argument against him. The buckle falls to the bed and she tosses it onto the ground. Then she looks back at Dan. Boxers, she realizes are the most _irritating_ thing ever as she sees his black briefs, and immediately she wants them off. "God, wear less clothing next time."

He laughs genuinely, not sarcastically, and wiggles his shirt off as if his clothes are burning him. When his shirt comes off, he is revealed except for those goddamn boxers. But still, the shirt off is a major point because Natalie can gawk at how chiseled he really is, how all that Cahill training has paid off in sculpting muscles on his abdomens.

"Like what you see?" he suggests, eyebrows arched.

She rolls her eyes, "I've seen better."

"Yeah _right._ It's your turn," he shoots at that designer satin dress she is wearing. It is white, ironically, and she's wearing it because she's hoping the purity of white will help hide the infidelity, hide the crudeness of her dirty, disgusting sin, hide why she's _really_ at the Christmas gathering. Besides, white makes her skin stand out.

She slowly retracts from her position and gets off the bed. Then she slinks off the dress, yanking out the zipper roughly even though she knows the cloth and the design is delicate, costing her over a few thousand dollars but she's way past caring. She kicks her heels off and hears a thud of one landing _somewhere_ around the room, knowing what a chore it will be to find them the next morning but _fuck it._ Natalie moves towards him in nothing but lacy black bra and panties and his eyes skims her body, as if they are hands tracing her skin, memorizing her thin long legs and her toned stomach, how her hair falls on her bare shoulders and how fucking beautifully broken she really is. He can see her insecurity tensing in her shoulderblades, as if waiting a snide remark or judgement.

"You're beautiful," he whispers and the tension is still there but he massages it, squeezing her shoulders as he rise into full height. He kisses her, and it's softer this time, because he takes his time with it and she doesn't quicken the pace of it. It is meaningful, unlike the other ones. He stops the kiss and trails it further down to her jawline, then down to her neck and his teeth scratches against her jugular vein, hearing the sweet pulse beating faintly beneath his tongue as he licks the soft flesh, earning a small moan. Dan nibbles on the flimsy skin and inhales, causing purple to bloom on her throat, marking hers as his. She realizes it will show tomorrow and Ian will most certainly ask her where the _fuck did you get the hickey._

"No!" a hand disconnects his mouth from her throat. "You can't-"

"What's wrong?" Dan sounds hurt and it dawns on her that he might've seen it as if she doesn't _want_ this to happen.

"They- they will see," she says strongly, reminding him of the facade they plaster on before exiting back into the real world.

Understanding floods in his gaze and he coaxes her back into the mood by bringing her nose and lips close to his own, a pink muscle sticking out and brushing against hers, asking for entrance and then prodding in. The air shimmers and shakes, tumbles and rattle in pieces all around them whenever they kiss; the acidity of this toxic relationship poisoning both of them with every touch and every filthy moan, the substantial desire to fuck each other's brains out and the growing seed of maybe something _more_ deep under the recesses of anger and sex.

"Bed," she interrupts; a hasty, harsh order, shattering that moment as she pushes him back into the quilts. She gazes around for a condom, looking for the protecting when Dan saves her the trouble.

"I have one in my pocket," he informs her and she scans the place for his jeans. She finds them by her shoes and grapples for the protection that he keeps in his pocket; she loves how he _knows_ this is going to happen, coming prepared. Not before long, she is there with the condom and pushes him down in the bed.

She hovers over him as she climbs onto the bed, her eyes are drawn to the tent in his black boxers. She shifts her weight onto her knees and lowers her head down onto him, never breaking contact from his boxers.

"Cobra," Dan hissed in clenched teeth, coining her by that stupid nickname, "Are you just going to stare at my dick for the rest of eternity or suck me off into the next millennium?"

The sound Natalie makes- a cross between a brittle laugh and a monosyllabic chuckle- is punctuated by the open-mouth kissed set near Dan's hips, just above where the band of his boxers lie. "Daniel," her British accent coats over his name luxuriously and he just wants to hear it over and over again, " _Stop_ whinging and just let me get to it, will you?"

Dan sighs, hoping his exasperation is a catalyst for her to speed up, but she knows there's no going back now. Her cold hands cradle his hips as she kisses his chest, tracing down lines near his- his- " _Fucking hell,"_ he gasps as she licks a stripe- through his clothes up the side of the hard shaft- "Nat- _Nat-"_ Natalie clasps the fabric between her teeth and pulls it gently down. Dan averts his eyes to the Heavens and gulps- " _Natalie."_

She doctors kisses along the bulge, relinquishing her hold around his buttocks, nails digging into the flesh but Dan doesn't mind. She looks up, pride and satisfaction in her eyes at the clear domination, "What?" she asks ever so innocently, "What is it, Daniel?"

Dan grits his teeth, trying not to admit how turned on he is. "No- _ah,_ Christ, Natalie!" she squeezes him _there,_ that sensitive area, her slender fingers working it's way around his shaft, "Quit fucking around, Natalie and just-" his breath hitched as suddenly, just like that, she lifted her touch from him.

"Just what?" she implores, smirking now, "Just _what,_ Daniel? I'm going to need some convincing."

"You're a fucking bitch, Cobra," he grumbles.

"You're not convincing me," she purrs, her fingers splayed on his stomach, inches away from his-

" _Fuck you,"_ he groans, bucking his hips upwards while, she leaves two love bites on the hollow of his leg, close enough to his crotch to make his cock twitch. "Fuck you, fuck you, _fuck you."_

She presses a sloppy kiss to the side of his knee. "Wouldn't you like to?" she muses.

" _Please,_ Natalie," Dan covers his face with a hand as the other wipes a brow of sweat running down his temples. He's trying to hide the flush of deep dark red spreading across his cheekbones as if it will help him cling to the last emaciated scrap of dignity he's got and is about to lose. Now _this_ is entertainment, Natalie thinks while smirking. High fucking quality entertainment. " _Just_ —please."

"Please what?" she barks harshly. Dan stares at her, full force in hatred and agony, with glossy eyes.

"Please," Dan glowers at her as the syllable chokes out of his mouth and she smiles, mockingly sweet, laser eyes on his pure naked form that is illuminated by the shaft of moonlight pouring in from the gaps of the curtain. Dark-toned hands lingered over nearly revealed skin, fingertips over the surface. Her lips are nearing at the approach of the next word: " _Mam."_

Time stops working after that. Dan never takes his next breath; it's lost in a moan. She plunges him inside her mouth, wrapping it in a wet heat around him. The pink tongue slides up the underside of his length, slow enough to drive anyone insane, and when it finally reaches the end she swirls around the head. He lets out this wild sound, music to her ears, a sound that his teeth has to chew on his lips to stifle so it'll save him the embarrassment later, a sound that he has to hide so everybody else downstairs won't hear. A grunt pulse in his throat regardless of the consequences, because he can't hold it in.

Taking it as a sign of encouragement, Natalie takes him as far back as her gag reflex will allow and swallows once, twice. It's enough to make Dan's head reel and the room spin around him in a dizzy hurricane. Dan has a hand tangled into Natalie's long hair and curls his fingers in and out of the soft tresses, holding Natalie's head steady mid-bob. Natalie shuffles her lower body forward to get closer, resuming the rhythm of her head movements. Dan gives up on not making noise and lets loose a long, high-pitched whine, muffled by the sheets. Natalie is engrossed with the sight and replies with a moan of her own, sending beautiful vibrations running up and down his spine, ending in sparks behind his eyes and a curl of his toes.

As he's about to release in sweet, sweet, relief, getting so close to the explosion, she stops. " _Motherfuck-"_ he begins, head shooting up to ask why she stopped, anger blooming in his vision as she wipes the lewd trail of saliva connecting her soft lips from the twitching cock, "Why did you-"

"Don't wanna start so soon, now do we?" a grin of devious mischief mars her pretty lips.

"I'll get you," he growls and attacks her by pouncing on her unexpectedly, grabbing her roughly by the arms and throwing her onto the bed, his strength easily overpowering her. She falls into the the covers with a _thump,_ like a potato sack, breathing hard and heavy, anticipating his next move. He leans down on her and his fingers coils itself around the stretchy material of her lacy underwear. "You'll pay for that."

"Yeah right," she responds, attempting nonchalance, but her hands are trembling so hard is a miracle she does not have a seizure right there and then. Skillfully, he drives down the fragile panties off her limbs as she unclasps her bra. Dan stares at her hard, staring like he never seen a girl before, and her heart feels as if it would pound right through her skin for display. Her now bare areas throbs excitedly as he props himself closer towards her, his chest millimetres from her own, caging her in.

With the dexterity of something far beyond his age, he stabs two fingers into her without any warning. Curving his fingers, he could feel her walls tightening around his digits and dragged them out, inch by inch, listening to her breathing quickening and her supple breasts rising and falling rapidly. Her heat stretches out for him around his fingers and she's moist below, her legs parted to give him a better access, spreading as he thrusts in and out.

Five seconds later, he replaces his fingers with something else- a tongue and her eyes widen as their breath hitched, the temperature rises around them, a warmth encasing them as Dan swirled his tongue inside of her, flicking the small bud in the way he knows sends her over the edge. " _Dan-"_ she whinges, voice caught in her throat as she grips the sheets so tight she's sure she ripped through them with her manicured nails, " _Dan-_ I'm about to-"

He stops.

"Hey, why did you-"

"Don't wanna start so soon, now do we?" he mocks with a cheeky grin, licking his lips, savouring her taste, but she is utterly furious because she could've _came_ right there and then if the stupid bastard hasn't pull that trick.

"That's not _funny,"_ she snaps, lungs expanding with air again. She can breathe now but she's plenty angry.

"I find it plenty funny," he says and rubs a hand on her thigh. She swats him away, huffing.

"Well?" Their eyes connect once more in a serious clash. "I'm still not satisfied."

"Of course you aren't." He takes her hips, meeting her pleading gaze, and he knows she's begging for him to just _fuck_ her now, take her and ruin her, make her the self-destructive and bored little bitch she is, but there is no way she'll ever say it aloud. He lines their hips together and slowly push into her, breaking that barrier, as he hooks her legs on each side of his torso for support and less hindrance.

Natalie bites her lip to stop herself from calling out and closes her eyes, bathing in the pleasure. With a fistful of the sheets blocking her vocal chords from straining it out, Dan starts out a torturous languid pace, easy enough for her insides to adjust to his size. She gasps as he tilts himself further in at a more pleasurable angle, driving deeper, and her toes curl. She is gasping his name over and over again, her British lilt dressing up his name. Dan always lose himself at the way his name tumbles out of her mouth without any warning, his thrusts becoming wilder and less controlled, faster and harder, as she shivered and quivered with pleasure under him. Her hands are running all over his chest and reaches up to his neck so she can find something more solid than bedsheets to grasp and hold on. Dan is grunting, his lips pressed close to her ear. Even after so many times, being inside her is always more familiar than he recalls.

Natalie arches her back as their noses touch. Dan's breath is shortening and his lungs are emptying with every plunge into her. He leans his body into hers and their lips meet again, clashing and fighting in another passionate embrace, tongues gliding and singing. Whatever sounds Natalie make, his name she's screaming, is lost in the exchange. She entangles her hands into his hair once more, knotting her fingers within the halo strands, as their mouths melded in total harmony.

Things become uncontrollable, their desire becoming fodder for the fire in their souls, charring to a crisp and replaced with mesmerized excitement. Their skin slaps against each other, rubbing, gasping, twitching, mingling- an imminent release begging to boil out of the surface. To lock things further, Natalie cranes her head up so her mouth latches on his neck and savored salty skin, nibbling once at his throat, faintly feeling the pulse beneath her tongue. Beating for her.

Her fists are now gripping the sheets in iron-clad clasps and soon, everything breaks. Natalie cries out, crushing Dan's body against hers and every cell of hers is submerged in sticky wet heat. A rush of exquisite heat throbs in Dan's veins, his release forcing itself hard into her. After a few more thrusts of Dan riding his high and Natalie trying to suppress her gasps, he collapses besides her, rolling out of her. His nose is nestled in her neck and she lets out a little laugh.

"That was good."

"Damn right," chuckles Dan, peering at her as he slowly peels off the condom and throws it at the bedside table dustbin. They lie in bed, next to each other, sweaty and exhausted, in silence for a while, bathing in the alleviating arousal and their greedy needs. Natalie finally feels properly satisfied and entertained, slothfully sprawling across the white sheets as Dan's gaze sought out to meet hers. Those jaded green eyes clashes on her amber ones before she moves an inch to impose her head on his chest, his heart is there but the beats are rapidly declining into a slower pace. The adrenaline rush is gone. He's no longer beating for her.

"I have to go," she swallows painfully and the contact is broken as she retracts her head. "They'll be wondering-"

"Y- _yeah,"_ says Dan shakily, suddenly remembering where they're at. Amy might be looking for him, worried, frantic, wondering where the hell he is, and his sister must never ever _know_ what just happened in this very room. "You're right." They disentangle from each other, limbs flailing and dressing themselves by finding their clothes on the floor. Suddenly, silently, they are now clothed; Dan in his superhero shirt, jeans, converses and Natalie in that white dress.

"Wait." Dan says before Natalie could touch the door knob. Dan approaches her, strokes her cheek, and closes the distance between their lips, tasting salt on her soft kiss-bitten lips, red from their passion-fueled affair before. She tries not to let the heartbreak gets the best of her as she realizes this is a scant farewell, until the next time, because she always know they're not that self-controlled to prevent the next time. "See you." he breathes in the space between their noses.

Then he leaves.

As he always does.

* * *

 **and then it got explicit. whoops.**

 **sorry, that was my first time writing smut. AND IT'S NATAN YAY. ahahha typical.**

 **reviews are appreciated. :)**


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